Saltwater and Snow Storms

Monday, August 7, 2017

Two weeks ago I was able to escape to the beach. To my second home. To my happy place. And, y'all, it did not disappoint.

Charleston, SC was my home for most of my adult life and being able to go "home" every so often is a much needed respite from everyday stress, as well as the replenishment for my soul that no other vacation destination can offer. Don't get me wrong, I'd bet money that my soul could find restoration in Bora Bora (hint, hint, Tim), but MY people aren't in Bora Bora. They are in Charleston and they are amazing.

That weekend was a short, four day vacation for me, but roughly four hours after arriving I could sense this was going to be much more than your average girls' weekend. We realized that five of us hadn't been together, at the same time, in over 12 years. 12 years! Life has taken us across the country from each other and circumstances have always kept one or two of us away at various times. Not this time. We were truly reunited and it felt so good.

We ate amazing, local food, drank delicious cocktails, ate some more, shopped, swam in the pool, waded in the ocean, talked into the wee hours of the morning (which leant us some amazing dark eye circles), ate some more, laughed until we cried and laughed until we spit out water all over each other.

What made this trip so much more than your run of the mill girls' weekend was the sharing. Sharing of silly toddler stories and of motherhood. Sharing of stories of funny things, hard things, sad things, joyful things, work things, love things and life things. One by one, we re-entered each other's lives. And we didn't just listen and move on. We dug in, asked how we can support one another and reminded each other of the amazing women, wives, moms and friends we are. You know, on the off chance one of us forgot our own worth amongst the whirlwind of life. Because let's face it, life is hard and demanding and stressful and someone always needs something from us. It's all too easy to let yourself get buried under the to-do list. And sometimes, sometimes you just need someone to look you in the eyes and say "do you know how awesome you are?"

These girls, they're so much more than a friend to me. They're beautiful, inside and out, they're fighters, they're teachers, they're wildly successful, they're hilarious, they're believers, they're mom warriors, they're willing to go deeper with you even when life is hard. They're willing to cry with you because it makes the laughter and the joyful moments a thousand times more appreciated and coveted. They're my friends of 15+ years and I am so blessed to call them mine.

To say that I look forward to the next time we're all together again would be an understatement of great proportions. Next time, however, I will bring extra concealer to hide the dark circles under my eyes after staying up and chatting until 4am. My soul came back refreshed, but my eyes? Umm, not so much.

Friday, January 6, 2017

2016 brought with it a lot crap: some good, some bad and some of it being the worst junk I've ever seen. But it also brought with it a lot of opportunity. Opportunity to learn, grow, fight and love.

Although there's probably too many to list, here a few of the biggest lessons I learned courtesy of good ole 2-0-1-6:

I love my family. I've always known this, but watching my mom withstand a year of emotional and physical turmoil and then watching the rest of our family care for and rally around her makes me love everyone all the more. Dad, you were a rock star throughout that year and I've told numerous people how in awe I was and am of your strength, love and upbeat attitude. I know not everyone is blessed with a close-knit family, so I count mine amongst my greatest blessings!

Speaking of moms...Mom, you have taught me to keep fighting when you want to give up. I love you and I'm so proud of you for pushing through your year-long journey, and now your daily journey. Nash is so glad to have his Lovie back in action, as is his momma! You, too, are a rock star of great proportions!

It can take a while to make new friends as an adult, especially after a huge move, but if given time and energy, you can form new bonds with new people that make you finally feel "at home" again.

The terrible twos is not some term that parents throw around in jest. Two is not for the faint of heart. Granted, lately, our good moments outweigh the bad ones by a landslide (thank you, sweet Jesus!), but the bad ones, when they strike, can be very, very bad. Like "who are you and what have you done with my child" bad.

I've learned that two years in, I still look at my son in awe sometimes. He is beautiful, smart, funny, fearless and never met a stranger. He has brought me so much joy and I thank the Lord daily that he is mine. Except when he throws food on the floor that I just cleaned, but I digress. He is a miracle, as are all children.

Marriage is hard. Like harder than the terrible twos, kind of hard. Loving an imperfect person while you yourself are also a hot mess simply isn't easy by design. Throw in loss, health issues, toddlers and life in general...no wonder it's freakin hard. But some things are worth fighting for if love remains.

Finding out I was having a daughter was one of the most exciting moments of my life. I have never wanted anything more and my heart was granted that wish. And although I will never get to know her love this side of heaven, nothing can take away the moment I knew she was mine. Nothing.

Doctors and nurses are the most amazing humans ever. I am forever indebted to mine. To have them care for my body and health is one thing, but to have one of my nurses call me to check in on me emotionally and to have her tell me she loves me, is something so far beyond her "duties as assigned". The heartfelt conversations I've had with my doctor were some of the things that saved my heart and mind from backsliding into depression, and for those moments and raw conversations, an acreage in my heart will always house that team.

Miscarriage is a dirty thief. It robs you of so, so much. It robs you of a lifetime of moments, milestones, first steps, birthdays, school dances, mommy and me shopping days and pedicures, weddings, future grandchildren... It steals confidence in yourself and replaces it with doubt and what did I do wrong. It steals almost all hope of medical answers and replaces them with questions that no one can answers. It leaves you with holes that no one or nothing can fill. It's honestly the biggest jerk I know.

Me. I've learned so much about myself in 2016. I've learned that I can be strong one minute and a quitter the next. I've learned that I can love the Lord and curse Him all in the same breath. I've learned I can love someone I'll never get to know more than I ever dreamed possible and that love can feel crushing at times when it has nowhere to go. I've learned that I find healing in sharing and that the sharing part terrifies me at times, but can also give me closure if I open up to it. I've learned to put on a brave face when I'm sobbing on the inside, which if I'm honest, I'm not sure is a good quality or a bad one. Either way, I've perfected it in 2016. I've learned that my new, personal mantra is "live to fight another day" and I tell myself that every single morning. No matter how hard 2016 was, my life is a gift and I'm going to fight like he@# to make mine count.

Lastly, I've learned that I could not and would not want to go through this life alone. The Lord has placed some of the most amazing, genuine, loving, uplifting, Godly, encouraging, ready for battle people in my life and that alone has helped me survive this past year. I've never felt more love in my life and it's made me a better human with a more empathic heart, no doubt. If you are one of the people I'm writing about, thank you. You are a gift more precious than anything I could ever ask or imagine. Thank you.

I hope as we head into 2017, that you'll take a moment to reflect on the lessons you learned over our last 365 days. Good, bad, ugly...they've all shaped who we are as we head into another year together. And because Isaiah always seems to have the right words for whatever life throws at me, I'll leave you with this:

Isaiah 43:18 (NLT)

18 “But forget all that—it is nothing compared to what I am going to do.

Thursday, October 27, 2016

If you don't know my friend Jenny, you should. And if you don't know her, my hope for you is that you have a Jenny, your own Jenny, in your life. They just make things a little better. A little brighter. And whole lot more fun.

When I moved back to Illinois, my childhood hometown, I was nervous to leave my circle of friends. My friends in Charleston were family. We had long since crossed that beautiful bridge that takes a friendship into a bond that doesn't require blood, but requires all of life's ups and downs that create trust, empathy, faith and love for one another. Leaving those girls was terrifying.

Moving back to Illinois was wonderful in that it brought me closer to family and into my husband's home. Although this was my hometown, a lot of my closest girlfriends no longer lived here. They had moved not only out of state, but to different coasts. This fact created a friendship void in my new, married life and brought a small struggle with resentment into it as well (if I'm being totally honest with you). I felt as though I had let go of my life, my career, my church, my home and my friends for marriage and that is a lot to add to a relationship.

Thankfully, one of the sweetest friends that I still had in town was awesome at inviting me into her circle. This friend, Jessica, opened her book club, girls' nights out and bunco group to me and I was so grateful for her inclusion and open arms. Jess gave me opportunities to have outings and friends of my own, which started healing some of that resentment that bubbled up from time to time..

Cue my first night at bunco where I nervously walked into a party of 20 women, with only one of which I knew. Throughout the evening, I watched as one of the girls in the group had everyone belly laughing over her stories of her five, FIVE kids, their shananigans and everyday life. There was something about her that just made you want to smile a little bigger and laugh a little harder. Or maybe it was the wine? Either way, that was my introduction of Jenny and I was pretty much a fan from that day on.

Jenny, like I said, is a mother of five beautiful kids. She epitomizes the phrase "if you think my hands are full, you should see my heart." She is creative beyond normal human expectation and throws a mean theme party. She is the friend I never knew I needed until I had her. She makes me laugh so hard it hurts sometimes. She doesn't get caught up in drama and I respect that and crave that in our dramatic world. She is loyal and fierce. She and Jessica not only show up at your grandpa's visitation, but come with homemade cookies and a gift card for a girl's "date night" to the movies and Steak'n'Shake because their fries and milkshakes heal the soul. She brings homecooked meals when you deliver a baby and again when you loss one. Seriously, when does she have time to cook for me when she has to cook for 5 kids? She loves vintage goodness as much as I do and we've had a blast selling our treasures together at many a show. We've also stood in rain and wind storms together and held onto our booth tent to prevent it from being ripped from the ground and ruining countless hours and countless dollars worth of inventory. She'll laugh with you, cry with you, dance with you and do life with you. Real life, not just social life. She is the real deal, folks. What you see is what you get, and thankfully for those of us who know her, what we get from her is way more than we could ever give back.

Like I said, if you don't know her, you should.

Happy Birthday to my beautiful and creative and hilarious friend, Jenny. I kept thinking "what can I get the girl who can make pretty much everything?" So hopefully this humble little shout out is a small gift that reflects how so many people feel about you. You're an amazing mom, awesome friend, comedian, creative genius, breath of fresh air, a mother to admire and respect, a crazy-hard worker and someone I wish everyone could know.

Happy Birthday to the friend I never knew I needed until I had you. So thankful for you! Now pass me a Raz-Ber-Rita so we can have a proper toast. Cheers, friend!

PS...To Jessica, this blog is also for you! You were a lifeline for me when I first moved back and have remained one since. Thank you so very much! I LOVE doing life with you all, especially when it requires costumes:)

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Can I just tell you that I have tried to write something, anything, for the last four days, and as you can see by my silence, I've got nothing, folks. Nada. I'm pretty sure my post last Wednesday used up about 90% of my allotted words for the month.

Tim, you're welcome for my lack of remaining words from now until Oct. 31st.

I keep finding myself stuck in this place between I just poured out the darkest part of my soul and I should post something about Nash's Halloween costume. Hmmm, somehow that gap seems like the Grand Canyon of creative outlets and I'm not sure how to make that leap. But seriously, where does one go from something so raw and honest?

Maybe tomorrow I'll be up to posting about Nash's costume or our upcoming Ironman Triathlon adventure to Florida in November, but today, I'll leave with you this rant deep thought.

Over the last few weeks, ALL I have wanted to listen to on the radio is K-Love. I'm thirsty for worship music and it's truly all my mind can handle right now. The majority of the day they play exactly what my heart needs to hear. I find myself lost in the music which is a welcomed escape from my own thoughts most of the time. That is until the first few notes of the song below is played. And then, I just can't. I can't listen, but I can't turn it off either. I can't listen and be okay. And I can't listen without ugly tears.

Dearest K-Love, You have been a life line for me over the last month (and a few weeks before), and for that I am eternally grateful for bringing worship to me wherever and whenever I need it. But, for the Love of literally all things holy, please stop playing "Thy Will" 147 times a day. I get it, it's a beautiful song, and the reason Hillary wrote it is heartbreakingly beautiful, but MY heart cannot take it. For those of us in these trenches of the meaning behind that song, I, and maybe we, cannot do it that many times a day. My heart can't go there and still walk into a meeting or grocery store or order lunch in a drive-thru without looking like I'm on the verge of a psychotic break or like I have been hit by an emotional Mack truck. There just aren't enough tears and mascara to carry me through the amount of times you play this tune on a daily basis. Can we make a compromise? How about you play it 3 times a day? Maybe cue one of them for 5:15pm when most of us mommas are driving home and clinging to the promise of our ponytails and sweatpants anyway. Then, sweet K-Love, you can play it 5 times in a row if your heart desires, because at that point my brave face is getting weary and transparent anyway. But playing it 147 times, ALL DAY LONG, makes me want to punch you in the face and I'm pretty sure our Lord frowns on me wanting to punch a Christian radio station in the face. Even amongst my heart ache. There is no excuse and I'm sorry for that thought. Do we have a deal, pretty please? I love you, I love "Thy Will" and Hillary Scott for capturing our heartbreak so perfectly, but I can't. I just can't. The minute she opens with "I'm so confused, I thought I heard you loud and clear", I'm DONE. Useless. Incapacitated. And sadly, I have things I need to do that require me to not be in the fetal position in my car all the livelong day.Thank you for listening, K-Love.Many Blessings and much love.
And if somehow you've escaped this beautiful, gut-wrenching song, here you go....or just turn on K-Love and wait about 2.7 minutes for it to play.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Your support. Your words. Your prayers. You typing out her name. All of those things have spoken life into a dark part of my heart. Thank you. I mean it.

So many people shared words like courageous, brave and strong, and although I am humbled by them, I feel as though I am anything but. My fear talked me out of hitting "post" about 5 times last night. I was scared and I still am. It's scary to fully expose your thoughts and your true, raw self. But thankfully, not a single person responded with anything but kindness. In a world that can be so judgy and dark, you all brought light. Bright light.

For those of you who shared your loss with me and others in your comments, please know that I shed tears each time I read of yet another life gone too soon. I see you and I felt you. Your pain may be 30 years old or two days old, but from everything I've read in the last 3 weeks, I'm guessing it's still very much real and fresh. I'm guessing you know their due date and how old they'd be today. And I can confidently say in knowing all of you, they'd be amazing reflections of their moms and dads. I will hold them in my heart and cannot wait for the day that you get to see them again (or even for the very first time)! Thank you for sharing a bit of your story with me. This a club that none of us asked to join, but there is healing there in our shared pain. YOU are brave and courageous and strong.

And because I shared with you all the description of the empty picture frame that I had purchased for Selah's room, I wanted to share the beautiful gift that was hand painted yesterday by a very talented friend. Although we will never have a picture for her frame, my heart is happy that it will not remain empty. Thank you, Ali, for the gorgeous gift. I cannot wait to put your artwork inside of her frame. If the Lord allows, maybe someday we'll have a third name to add to our list of blessings below their siblings, Nash and Selah.

Thank you. We are humbled. You have made her known. I hope to one day be able to be a reminder of hope for each of you.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

I had a daughter. I will always have a daughter. Her name is Selah Jayne.

There, I said it.

She is now known.

So is the piece of my heart that vanished as she left us far too soon. But at least now you know that she existed. As a mom, I felt this need for others to know that she existed and she was our child.
She was so very real.

I've fought an internal battle on sharing this with the world for the last three weeks. My heart urges me, pokes and prods me, but my mind kept coming back to "no way" and "people won't get it" or "people might think why is she sharing this?" But after a long weekend of battling the waves of emotion that threatened to erupt anytime an old friend asked me "how many children do you have now?" or "do you think you'll have more?", my mind slowly started taking one more step closer to where my heart stood. It's a place I NEVER wanted to stand, but it's where we've been led on our journey and I can't live in two separate realities any longer. Nor do I want this baby to be tucked away like a secret we're keeping.

So here's our story of the journey to Selah Jayne...

For two years following Nash's arrival, Tim and I made a decision to wait to try for a second child until the summer of 2016. Thanks to an unrelated doctor's appointment in June, it appeared the stars were aligning for our second child to make their presence a reality in the near future. It felt like the Lord was all over the timing of this decision. On July 11th we found out we were pregnant. I cried happy, excited tears as well as terrified tears to have 2 kiddos under the age of three. I simply could not wait to tell Tim that night and ran out to buy a "Big Brother" shirt for Nash to wear to surprise his dad that evening.

That pure joy and excitement lasted two days. Two days.

I will spare you details, but we have learned throughout my last two pregnancies that we don't get to be the family with stress-free pregnancies. By the grace of God, we can get pregnant, so I am NOT complaining at all, but our pregnancies bring a level of stress with them that keeps us from rushing out to buy clothes or paint nurseries. My body creates complications that result in extra ultrasounds and lots of fear. I have been told that my body is a mystery by three different medical professionals now, but thankfully I don't have to look far to see our vibrant two year old who keeps us clinging to the hope that it can happen successfully.

Over weeks of scares and threatened loss, I'd drop everything and rush to my amazing doctor's office only to find our baby viable, and then growing and then moving around as if waving to us. Every time I thought it was ending, there was that precious life still holding strong and that heartbeat that took my breath away each time. Yet again, I was carrying a fighter and was praising the Lord for His protection.

Thanks to a special blood test, on August 26th Tim and I found out we were having a girl. A GIRL! For as long as I can remember wanting to be a mom, I have wanted to have a daughter. I grew up daydreaming of having a boy first and then a girl. That way my boy would protect my girl.
On August 26th, my dream came true. I was brought to instant, happy tears and immediately prayed she'd stay healthy and with us.

With visions of amazingly cute headbands and dresses with bloomers, I fought the urge to rush out and shop. I made a pact with myself that I wouldn't buy anything until we crossed into the 2nd trimester. At exactly 14 weeks I allowed myself to buy her four outfits and a frame for her room that read "You are Loved...Always."

Just four days later is when things started to take a turn. On the week of Sept. 19th, my 15th week, I saw the doctor every day, Monday-Thursday. On Monday we received scary news of a possible amniotic leak and an issue with my body that could cause pre-term labor at any point. The prognosis was not good and I was told that this was an emergency situation. The following day, a special ultrasound was scheduled and I went in thinking the worst. Cue the ultrasound and there she was moving around and growing right on track. Hallelujah! The specialist saw no rupture and again said "you're a mystery" and then sent us on our way with full hearts and answered prayers. On Wednesday, more scary symptoms arose which brought me back in to the doctor yet again. Still, things seemed okay.

Until they weren't.

On Thursday, I was again rushed back in for more miscarriage symptoms. I asked Tim to go with me "just in case", but in my heart I knew she'd be fine. She's always fine through the scares. So I laid back and waited while my doctor preformed a handheld ultrasound just to take a quick look. Thinking about that silence still makes me want to vomit.

After about 20 seconds of silence, I said "you're being too quiet for too long". And that was the last sentence I ever spoke before my life and my heart as I knew them changed. Probably forever.

"I'm quiet because I believe I'm looking at a baby who's passed away" replied my doctor. 13 words stole a part of my soul. 13 words will haunt me until I take my last breath.

I asked the nurse to get Tim from the waiting room and when he came through the door, I told him she was gone. My heart shattered again seeing his face. Disbelief and pain.

She was healthy and strong and my body failed to protect her. Disbelief and pain.

After we did a full ultrasound to confirm and to see her one last time, we were left with two options: deliver her in the hospital due to being too far along to deliver at home or opt for surgery. We asked for a night to process everything and make a decision as a family. Our doctor granted us that request. So we went home and tried to decide between two totally sucky, crappy options. You see, when you become pregnant, you're given folders and resources to prepare you for welcoming your baby home. No one gives you a single pamphlet when your world comes crashing down. And there's certainly no good option for how to bring everything to a close. All options lead to empty arms and four cute little outfits hanging in an empty nursery.

With one night to make our decision, my body had a different plan and went into labor around 2am. I tried to ride it out until morning, but after 2 hours of contractions every 3 minutes, there was no slowing down this train. We arrived at the hospital at 4:30am on Sept. 23rd and were back at home by 5pm that evening. It was done. I was no longer carrying my girl and I was broken into a million pieces. Some pieces which may slowly start to come back together I'd imagine, but some of those pieces are gone. As my doctor shared with me, as he listened to my broken thoughts and my mental wrestling match of guilt on what I could've done differently, he looked me in the eyes and said "you're different now. You're always going to be different." And he was right. How had I become the 1-2% chance of losing my baby in the 2nd trimester? Why? How? I don't want to be different. I want to be the same I was three weeks ago. I want her back. I want HER. Period.

Over the last three weeks, I have ridden the waves of a sadness I never knew existed. I have been angry. Angry at myself and angry at God. I have questioned everything. Everything. I have second guessed ever trying again for fear of my body failing to protect another child. I have felt guilty for even thinking about trying again as it'll never bring back our girl. I have felt physical pain walking passed the closed door of her future nursery. And I have questioned Heaven more than I have in my 37 years combined. What is she doing there? Is she still tiny or is she the full image of who God created through us? Does she have my nose and her dad's blue eyes? Is she playing? Does she know she had parents who loved her, fought for her and prayed for her decades before she existed?Does she even know her name?

One of the things that has brought me immense comfort has been to name our girl. She made it a long, eventful 15 weeks and we had known she was a girl for over a month. She needed a name. And not just any name, but a name fit for the Heavens, just like our daughter was fit for them.

By the grace of God and through a writer I had never heard of until 3 hours before we found out she was gone, I stumbled across one of the prettiest words I now know...Selah.
Selah, pronounced "Say-la" is a word woven into the Bible 74 times and with many translations. The one translation that struck me the most was "lifted up". With her being lifted straight up to Heaven from me, I just knew that was her name. There was no doubt in my mind that was her name. And Jayne, meaning "Gift from God", just made sense too. So on Sept. 23, 2016, our daughter was named Selah Jayne, our lifted up gift from God.

If you've made it this far in this long story, thank you. You have helped make our Selah Jayne known and real on this earth and in turn, have made my heart known. This is by far the hardest thing I have gone through. I have a new found respect for parents who have suffered similar losses, and especially those who have lost a child, at any age, on this side of Heaven. My heart breaks for you and sees you. No one should know the pain, but also the loss of so many dreams and the countless "who would you have become" questions. It's cruel and it's brutal and it steals something from you.

BUT, some day, thanks to Jesus' promises, we will see our babies and see their beautiful faces and hold their hands and hear their laugh for the first time. Oh how I cannot wait for that day! And we will get to tell them how incredibly loved they are and have been every day we took a breath. We will hold them and rock them and know them. THAT is what keeps me from losing all the hope. Because without that sliver of hope and Jesus, I'd be a goner.

Selah Jayne, you were tremendously loved long before your time and every day after. We talk about you daily and you are ever present in bedtime prayers with your brother. I am so proud and honored to be your mom and to have been chosen to carry you your whole life. I will live out of the words on your picture frame versus just hanging them on your wall. You are loved...Always.I Love you,Mom
PS...Special thank you to those of you who have been by our side through this journey. Your texts, calls, hugs, prayers, meals, tears, a shared book about Heaven, flowers and more, have brought comfort when I couldn't find it on my own and you made us feel less alone in our grief. Thank you. You mean the world to us. And to Tim, thank you for being our rock through your own pain. I couldn't ask for more.

PPS...If you've lost a baby too, please feel free to leave a comment. I'd love to pray for you and keep your little one in my heart too. I'm so very sorry. I see you.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Weekends are for friends, naps, sun, pedicures, and if you live in our house, a tantrum or two. Just keepin it real, my friends.

Saturday proved to be a fantastic day. There were two estate sales (at 1/2 price, mind you), water table fun, a pedicure with my mom and so much more. The Hubs had a guys' night planned so I was talkin a big game in my head all day that included an 8pm bedtime for Nashy and then 3 hours of uninterrupted time of Netflix with my dear friend, Olivia Pope (shout to any other Scandal fans out there). Needless to say, bedtime occurred not so promptly at 9pm and I was dozing off by 10:30pm. I am officially lame. I definitely can't party like I used to, nor can I even watch TV like I used to apparently. #Momlife #Tired

Sunday included volunteering in the 2 year old childcare room at church, followed some Chicago style hotdogs for lunch, naps and dinner with my in-laws. I'll chalk this up to another successful weekend day.

Now that I've told you how amazing our weekend was, here's the part where I keep it real. Nashy has hit the stage of Birthday awareness. What does that mean, you ask. He has begun to notice when other kiddos at "school" get their special Bday celebration and has begun claiming everyone else's Bday as "MY BIRTHDAY!" Saturday afternoon actually found us having a heart to heart that it was, in fact, NOT his Birthday. Tears flowed along with a few screams declaring "My Birthday!!!". With his 2nd birthday quickly (or slowly if you ask him), I do believe I'll create a countdown to my birthday chart to help ward of tantrums, tears and demanding of candy for his birthday on days that are NOT, well, his birthday. I think I have met my match on loving our birthdays. #NotYourBirthday #NoCandy

We also enjoyed a timeout or two, him spitting at me during dinnertime at my in-laws which resulted in immediate removal from the dining room table, him demanding "more brownie" of which there was no more brownie (so momma had to give him the rest of her beloved brownie), and more. Thank God he's so stinkin cute!!

What was your weekend like, friends? Any naps, sunshine or irrational tears and tantrums? I hope it was great one where you got to finish YOUR whole brownie!

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Five months. Five months is how long I've separated from this blog and my words and thoughts and those who used to drop by and give me a few daily moments of their precious time (thank you!). I've missed you. All of you. This blog, the words, the feelings and the people. I've truly missed you.

Over the last five months I have thought so many times "this would be a great blog post" and yet I made excuses about being too busy or not having enough time. Neither were 100% true. I HAVE been busy and time HAS been stretched, but mostly, I didn't have the words. Or I didn't have the RIGHT words.

This last year was a hard one. In all honesty, it was the hardest year of my life and although I blogged through some of it, it just got to be too hard to write and not spew everything from my soul onto "paper" for others to read. I've always kept my blog transparent and honest. Some posts are funny, some are sad and some are pointless, but they've all been honest which is what has made my blog journey meaningful to me. But this past year, everything was just too real and too heavy and I was too tired and sometimes too lost to be honest, or more so, to not be honest. Being too honest was too scary, so I stopped altogether.

As I finally come up for air, I think I'm ready to be honest again. Some things I may share from the past year and some I won't, but I'm back and I'm here and I'm ready to write. There's something so freeing about storytelling and I look forward to bringing this freedom-giving outlet back into my brain, life and heart.

I'd love for you to stick around if you stumble back this way. I've missed you. Honestly.

Friday, February 5, 2016

This past Sunday night I jokingly told a few friends at our bible study that I wanted to catch a minor cold so I could get a little R&R this week. Well, let me tell you that Jesus himself must've heard me and thought "my sweet Britt, be careful what you pray for" because WHAM. Sick I became.

The irony of this whole plaque is that there is no such thing as R&R when your nose is running, your eyes are running, your throat is so scratchy you want to claw it out and your whole body hurts. Proof that the Lord has a sense of humor and that he still answers prayers.

So this week's high fives are brought to you by:

Bolthouse Farms C-Boost Juice- This stuff is so tasty and helped pump some vitamin C into my system.

The sweet relief of Nyquil. Without it I tossed and turned and would end up sitting on my couch watching crap TV at 2am due to being too uncomfortable to sleep. Is there anything better than the warmth of Nyquil hitting your system when all else fails you?

My fave Power Kale Ceasar Salad from Panera. If you haven't had it, you're missing out. Those thin, cheese croutons are legit and who the heck wants to cook when you're sick?

Project Runway Junior marathon to pass the few hours I was awake until the Nyquil would deliver me from evil.

This guy who has pulled extra weight since Wednesday, Thank you, Hubs!!

Although I'm almost certain that there a million and one ways to my heart, here a few that came to mind today...

Donuts- God bless the inventor of the donut, more specifically the cake donut with sprinkles. Every once in a while the Hubs will surprise me with donuts from our local shop, By the Dozen, and it makes my heart and belly so happy.

Christmas Movies- Nothing can make me as cozy, content and heart warmed quite like a good, ole cheesy Christmas movie. And if the Hubs will watch them with me without too much groaning over the bad acting, it definitely hits this heart of mine.

Flowers- Some girls pride themselves on proclaiming that "flowers just die, what's the point", but I am here to say that I am not one of those girls. There is nothing better than receiving flowers. They're beautiful, they're proof that God's creation is meant to be enjoyed, and they just make me feel special and thought of.

The Mundane- Some of the best ways to my heart aren't fancy, romantic gestures. They're clean laundry, which the Hubs does 90% of in our home. It's clean dishes and kitchen counters after I've cooked a meal, it's having my coffee graciously made every morning with the right amount of sugar and milk, and it's having the Hubs run random errands with me when I know he'd probably rather do anything else. I remember one of my older co-workers explain how she knew her husband was the one as "if I asked him to crawl around in the backyard and cut the grass with finger nail clippers with me, well, he probably would because we just love being together. What we're doing isn't that important as long as we're together." That conversation was almost 14 years ago and I can still hear the sincerity and love in her voice. I knew in that moment that's what I wanted as well.

Do I need romantic sunsets and poetry to sweep my heart away? Nah. Just give me sprinkle donut, my coffee just the way I like it and some silly errands while we laugh our way through Target together and I'm a happy wife and mom.

About Me

I was blessed enough to live near the beach in Charleston, SC for 15 years after surviving 18 years of life in the frozen tundra that is Illinois Winters. However, recently the Midwest has called this Southern by choice girl back to be the wife of an amazing man in IL. I love my family, love my friends as though they were family, and love my God with all of my heart.